


Misdirection and Murder

by Current521



Series: Starkid Writes [10]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, starkid writes, starkid writes discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Current521/pseuds/Current521
Summary: The Deadliest Man Alive — called DMA — is a prolific serial killer, and Curt Mega has to deal with him. It doesn't really go as planned.





	Misdirection and Murder

**Author's Note:**

> We had a prompt this week called "serial killer" and I saw a weird tumblr post (I'll link it in the end notes if I find it again) talking about how you shouldn't pick up hitchhikers because they might be serial killers, but many serial killers pick up hitchhikers, so what if one serial killer picks up another, and that's not what happened here, but it was intended to be weird, so at least I've achieved that

"Who's this guy?" Curt looked at the grainy photograph Cynthia had put in front of him.

She shrugged. "We don't really know. Press calls him DMA, the Deadliest Man Alive. I kinda doubt that, but he sure is good at what he does." She tapped the picture. "Which is picking up hitchhikers and killing them. The easiest thing to do is probably to get him to pick you up."

Curt took the folder and the photograph from Cynthia's desk. "Right. I'll take a look at this." He returned to his own desk to look it over.

After half an hour of looking through the file, Curt had something that looked like a plan. Which meant, he’d figured out where this DMA guy mostly picked up victims, so he was gonna go out there and hitchhike.

Which he did, two days later. He got a ride with a nice young woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and ended up on a farm out in the middle of nowhere.

So there he was. He decided to hitchhike back — that was what he was out for anyway, after all — and caught a ride with a British guy around his own age, who looked like the kind of man women would think twice before riding alone with. It didn’t really bother Curt; he was armed and looking for a serial killer, he could handle a creep.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Curt to realise that they weren't going where he'd asked; in fact, they were going in the opposite direction. "Hey, uhh, I just remembered a shortcut, can you take a left up here?" He pointed and, to his surprise, the car turned. 

"Cutting through Pinebrook?" the guy asked. 

Curt nodded. "Yeah, it's a bit quicker. Less traffic." He had no idea; he didn't know where they were, but if he could get back, it wasn't a total loss. "I'm Curt, by the way."

The other guy shrugged. "Nice to meet you." His shrug lifted his jacket a bit, and Curt saw the hilt of a gun. Great. 

It shouldn't have taken him this long; he hadn't been more than a few miles from the area he'd mapped out for DMA, and he'd known from the very beginning that this guy was creepy. The fact that he was armed and refusing to say his name wasn't just a hint, it was practically a signpost in the face.

Curt leaned back and pretended to relax, one hand on the hilt of his gun. He'd have to figure out a way to swing this to his advantage.

They got into an area Curt was familiar with. “If you take the first exit up here, down Terrace Road, you can take drive up through the marine.”

“Right.” The guy — presumably DMA — nodded and took the road Curt had indicated. “Though it’s quicker to go around the marine and drive past the church.”

“Sure, do whatever.” Curt leaned back, keeping a careful eye out. “Actually, if you’re going past the church, you can just go up 5th, isn’t that faster?”

DMA shrugged. "I guess so. I'm not sure." He turned up past the church and took the way Curt had suggested; it would bring them closer to the police station, and closer to where Curt could make a move. "But then you'd need to take 7th down, right? To get back to the shopping district, if that's where you were going."

Curt had forgotten that he'd actually given a destination. "Uh, yeah, but you can also just drop me off at the police station, then I'll take the footpath. No reason for you to loop all the way around." He hoped it would work.

"Don't you even worry about it." DMA turned up the way he'd said he would. "I'll get you there."

Less than ideal, but Curt would take it. He hadn't let go of his gun the entire ride, and he didn't plan on doing so.

He didn't say anything when they drove directly through the shopping district and past where he'd asked to be dropped off, but he did notice DMA locking the doors.

They pulled up in the middle of a field. "Get out," DMA said, unlocking the door.

Curt complied. "Where are we?" He still had a hand on his gun.

"Somewhere quiet." DMA pulled a gun. "Are you armed?"

"No," Curt replied, pulling his own gun, pointing it at DMA. "But I am strapped."

"What… What does that even… Whatever." He laughed. "You won't kill me except as a last resort. And I don't miss."

"Neither do I." Curt pulled the trigger twice; once to disarm DMA, and once to shoot out one of his knees. "And just because I won't kill you doesn't mean I won't shoot you."

"Shite." DMA looked up at Curt. "What now?"

Curt put his gun away and knelt down. "Now, you go to prison."

DMA sighed. "Of course." He sat up, with some difficulty. "I don't suppose there'll be a hospital visit on the way?"

"Nope." Curt lifted DMA up and carried him to the car, sticking him in the backseat. "Are you gonna bleed out?"

"No." DMA drummed a tattoo on his opposite arm. "I'll be fine."

"Good." Curt handcuffed him, just for good measure. "Can't have you dying before your trial."

"Oh fuck off." DMA shook his head and looked demonstratively out the window.

Curt got behind the wheel and drove them back to the police station. He handed DMA over to the warden, and went up to Cynthia's office. 

"What do you want, Mega?"

"DMA is in custody." He put the casefile down on the desk. "Can I go home now?"

Cynthia looked at the file. "Good job. Now fuck off, rest up, you're coming in early tomorrow." She looked up. "Get out of my office."

"Right." Curt left, stopping to check on DMA on the way; he wasn't allowed into the holding cell, though, so he just headed out.


End file.
